


To Fill a Thief's Shoes

by Kencha



Series: Hellbound [6]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 16:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kencha/pseuds/Kencha
Summary: Conan meets Kuroha Hikaru for the first time again.
Series: Hellbound [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1241153
Kudos: 18





	To Fill a Thief's Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> thank you Sushi for betaing (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

(⌐▨_▨)

Three days passed after Kuroha had been attacked when Conan walked into the thief's hospital room and found something very, very wrong. Conan had been alone as he met with the thief in the days since the Black Feather deception (as the FBI had been referring to the operation) under the guise of trying to find out the thief's true name. 

Conan hadn't revealed to Kuroha that he knew Kuroba Kaito was his true name. The thief was edgy about simple life facts, changing his story every time they talked. Sometimes he was a parent with a wife and kids, sometimes the thief was the wife and married to a wonderful husband, and other times the thief was an orphan with no family to call his own. One time the thief said he was happily dating the man of his dreams, another time brought up the thief's many partners in his polyamory lifestyle, while yet a few other times the thief bemoaned the life of a single man. He claimed to be of many ages, many genders and orientations, never resting on a single mode of identification for more than maybe half an hour.

One thing, however, remained unchanged throughout their conversations. Since discerning Conan's true identity, the thief had settled into addressing Conan extremely casually. 

_ "Yo, meitantei." _

_ "Morning, meitantei." _

_ "Hey." _

_ "Looks like Ran let you out, huh." _

_ "Still alive? Damn." _

He greeted Conan every day with a grin, claiming Conan saved him from boredom. The reverse was true as well, the thief's company gratifying in a way that was similar to Hattori's (minus the impromptu plane trips). 

Such was the reason Conan froze in his tracks at Kuroha's greeting. 

"Hello, Conan-kun," Kuroha said evenly, calmly.

Before Kuroha could blink, crosshairs were trained on his face. Conan stood just past the doorway, a diamond-hard glare boring into Kuroha. 

"Who are you?" Conan demanded. "Where is Kuroha-san?" There was no point in maintaining the kiddie act, some part of him recognized, when he stood in a fierce attack position. He let his voice drop as low as it could in hopes of sounding intimidating, in hopes that someone outside would realize something was wrong.

"But Conan-kun, I am Kuroha. Kuroha Hikaru. You know me, do you not?" Kuroha raised his eyebrows, his smooth monotone barely changing a note as he addressed Conan.

Conan held firm. "Where. Is. Kuroha."

Irritation blazed past Kuroha's eyes, the indigo two shades too blue. "I  _ am  _ Kuroha. Close the door, little boy," Kuroha hissed in a voice that wavered away from young and polite, "or I'll blow both our covers."

Conan eyed Kuroha suspiciously for a moment more before he reached behind him and closed the door, never taking his eyes off the imposter. Once the door was shut, Conan snapped, "You're not the man who was here yesterday. How do I know you haven't killed him and taken his place?"

The other's act fell. His posture straightened where Kuroha's had been stopped from pain, his nose turned up where Kuroha had tilted his head in curiosity. His breathing changed from labored and wheezy to easy and deep, and Conan kept down a shudder, having anticipated the shift. "The man who was here yesterday wasn't the first Kuroha Hikaru. He wasn't the second, either. He takes up the role when he needs to. A magician is nothing without his assistants," the one wearing Kuroha's face said coldly. A shade gruffer with a tiny bit of wisdom, the one wearing Kuroha's face now sounded older than the real one, and Conan could tell where his frame differed from the thief's. "It is an identity that shifts from one person to another. Kuroha Hikaru must be healthy, so I am Kuroha Hikaru," the man said impatiently. 

“A body double,” Conan said, blinking at the realization. _ Just like with Akai.  _ Now that he understood why the new Kuroha was there, Conan pressed for more information. “But the other one— that other Kuroha-san. Where is he? You still haven't proved that you're on his side. What proof do you have that you're an ally?” 

The man let out a deep sigh. “Little boy, understand that the only reason I’m telling you anything at all is because of my young master's orders. He wanted you to know he was safe. If it were up to me, all you would hear is, ‘This is none of your concern, so leave Kuroha Hikaru be.’” The man sighed again, his shoulders slumping in something like exasperation. “But the young master said to tell you this.” 

The man switched to Kuroha’s voice, and Conan felt like he was listening to some odd form of voicemail. “Keep our angel safe, meitantei. When Sakra’s masterpiece is seen in its plentitude, a red-winged hawk is circling, the blacktop stretches out for days.”

Conan stared. Closing his watch, he turned his gaze to the floor, his hand rising to his chin. “A riddle,” he grumbled. “Of course he’d leave a riddle.”

Kuroha’s stand-in watched the shift from distrustful to deep in thought and chuckled. “He was right. You are an odd one. Am I off the hook, then?”

Conan nodded, casting another look at the stand-in. “Fine. But let him know that that angel is going to raise h*** when she finds out.”

The stand-in inclined his head. “Of course. Understand, however, that I am not a messenger for him. I will convey your message to him, but I cannot and will not do more. I am Kuroha Hikaru, so you must treat me as you did the man who fulfilled the role before.” The stand-in gave a Kuroha-esque smirk. “He said you would understand something about playing a role.”

Conan glared. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

To Conan’s relief, the stand-in shook his head, holding up his hands in a helpless gesture. “Whatever was happening between you and him, I have no knowledge of it. Whatever secrets you entrusted him with will stay safe with him. He respects privacy.”

Conan snorted. “Respects privacy. Sure.”

The stand-in drew himself up, and a shudder ran down Conan’s spine. “Don’t badmouth him. He is above your petty insults and games, child.” With the simple insult, Conan knew that the real Kuroha hadn’t betrayed him and, despite the stand-in’s outburst, Conan was able to breathe a little easier. 

“Fine, fine. I’m leaving,” Conan drawled, turning on his heel. “Get better, Kuroha-keiji,” Conan called over his shoulder as he pulled open the door, just in case any passing staff was around. 

He walked home in silence, opting to tell Ran in person rather than over the phone about the stand-in. His thoughts came and went like waves of the ocean. At times they were quiet and fleeting, climbing up the shore slowly and receding without event. The new Kuroha had slightly longer hair. How did the new Kuroha fake his injury, if he did at all? Would Kuroha’s allies go as far as to get shot in the chest, just to cover for their colleague (or whatever Kuroha was to them)? Conan frowned, and let the thought drift away. 

Kuroha hadn’t given Conan any notice about the switch.  _ Fool your friends to fool your enemies.  _ But was Conan an enemy or a friend? Maybe he had pushed Kuroha too far in his questioning of the thief, and the thief had asked for an out to escape Conan. Considering the idea further, Conan finally managed to discard it. The thief hid only his true identity from Conan. He made clear his thoughts and feelings on matters, ensuring that Conan knew exactly how he stood on a given topic or argument. The thief spoke clearly to Conan, at least, and only because Conan could interpret his riddles and verbal puzzles in fractions of a second. If anyone else were to listen in on the conversation (save Ran, maybe), they’d be mind boggled, hard-pressed to make heads or tails of what the thief said. 

Perhaps Kuroha  _ had  _ mentioned the upcoming switch and Conan had missed it, then. Considering the codes and riddles that the thief spoke in, the thief might have given Conan a clue about the switch and Conan could have just missed it. There had been times when the thief said something and Conan would stare blankly until the thief caved and explained, so maybe all those incomprehensible bits nodded to something coming. Shrugging mentally, Conan held the thought out to the waves and let it float away.

He descended the stairs to the train station, bodies in front and behind him. Letting the guardrail guide him, Conan followed the masses until he reached the train. As he was about to step on the train, a scream rang out from the other end of the platform, one of unadulterated terror. 

_ “Kishi-kun!”  _

Conan tore towards the source of the scream, shoving past people’s legs. Contemplation on the thief could wait for a few more hours. 

He had a murder to solve. 

**Author's Note:**

> Our dearest Kaitou does have other duties to attend to, after all, so he hasn't been Kuroha Hikaru from day one. His mom had the role established by someone else, and he picks up the role now and again when he needs it in week- and month-long chunks. He's never been Kuroha for longer than three months at a time (also the reason why Kuroha has an alibi for every heist). 
> 
> Because I am _ so freaking psyched _ for the sequel, these OS are kinda taking place of the epilogue I talked about??? We'll find out I guess, but that might be a thing ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> <del> also I started on the Sherry backstory fic </del>
> 
> K bye  
<3 Kencha


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